


Big Words

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Lone Gunmen (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-18
Updated: 2005-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1635977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys infiltrate an environmental lecture series in order to stop a terrorist group.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Words

**Author's Note:**

> Written for packmentality

 

 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Lone Gunmen. This is just for fun - trust me, no money is being made.

Author's Notes: This is for packmentality and her `big word kink.'

****

Big Words

Melvin Frohike had been nodding solemnly while scribbling in a notebook, the cordless phone pressed tightly to his ear. "Yeah. Okay. We'll see what we can do." He ran his gloved hand over his balding head. "Thanks for the tip," he said and hung up.

"What was that all about?" Byers asked, moving to sit on the corner of a desk in the Lone Gunmen's cluttered basement headquarters.

"That was Green Thumb, an old source of mine, and according to him, ELF's up to something new. Probably something big."

Langly glanced up but decided he could listen to Frohike and play Grand Theft Auto 2 at the same time. So far the tip wasn't interesting enough to warrant pausing.

"Did your source have any details?" Byers asked.

"A few. Apparently he intercepted a transmission while attending a seminar at Oberlin College. It looked to him like someone was using a traveling environmental lecture series as a way to broadcast instructions to various ELF cells. He said the series is at Georgetown this weekend."

Langly glanced over in time to see Jimmy raise his hand. As usual, everyone ignored him.

"Interesting. It seems like it would be pretty easy to check out. Did you get anything else?" Byers asked.

"Yeah. Apparently it's a weak signal and whoever was transmitting it got out of range before Green Thumb got the full message, but he was able to decode a time and date."

Jimmy raised his hand higher and Langly mentally prepared himself for the inevitable dumb question.

"Interesting that ELF is using technology to keep their cells in touch," Byers observed.

"Yeah, someone should tell them that RF radiation interferes with caribou migratory patterns or something." Langly hated hypocrisy, especially when it interrupted his game.

"Guys?" Jimmy finally asked.

"What is it, Jimmy?" Byers had always been the patient one.

"You're not telling me that Santa's little helpers are bad guys, are you?"

Langly joined the collective sigh. "ELF, not elves." He wasn't surprised by the vacuous stare he got in return. "The Earth Liberation Front? The wackos who put spikes in tress and start equipment on fire?"

Still nothing.

"They're eco-terrorists, Jimmy," Byers explained. "They use violent and destructive means to stop logging and mining."

"Oh."

"The FBI's been trying to track them down for years now," Langly explained, still not turning away from his computer. He was a master of multi-tasking.

"So what are we going to do?" Byers asked.

Frohike shrugged. "I've got the details on the signal Green Thumb intercepted. I could tune a sniffer to the right frequency, then use a repeater to modulate it and broadcast back to the van. I say we try to get into that lecture series and see what we can find out."

"I bet there's a reward leading to information on ELF," Langly added. "It wouldn't hurt to have a little extra change to make sure we get the next issue out."

"I'm still a little confused, guys," Jimmy said, looking mournful. "I thought we were for the environment."

Langly couldn't help thinking that he was a one-state state machine. When wasn't he confused? But before he could get out a sarcastic comment, Byers said, "We are, Jimmy. But these guys are terrorists and they don't care if people get hurt. They give the environmental movement a bad name. Their aims might be good, but they go about accomplishing them the wrong way."

"Yeah, but isn't it like civil disobedience?" Jimmy persisted.

"It's one thing to live on a lake and not pay your taxes. It's another to pound spikes in a tree that's about to be legally logged. Think about what would happen when a chain saw hits a metal spike. It's not pretty." Byers crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Jimmy seemed to ponder that and then nodded solemnly. "Okay. I gotcha."

Frohike was already rummaging through the boxes stacked on the equipment racks behind them. "According to Green Thumb, this is an invitation-only lecture series. We need to fake up some credentials."

That sufficiently tempted Langly away from his game. "No problem." He opened another window and began picking through the Georgetown website for inspiration.

"We're going to need someone who looks the part to go in -- someone who could pass for an intellectual and an environmentalist," Frohike said.

Even engrossed in his computer, Langly could tell that the rest of the guys were staring at him. He turned around slowly to expectant faces and crossed his arms. "Oh come on. Why me?"

"Why not?" Frohike asked. "I went undercover as the son of the Poisoner of Alsace."

"And I went undercover as a hotdog." Jimmy puffed out his chest proudly. The whole group just looked at him. No one even bothered to sigh.

"I'm a computer geek, not a hippie," Langly said, leaning back and draping his arm across the top of his chair.

"But you've got the hair and we could get you the wardrobe," Frohike protested. "What other choice do we have? There's no way in hell we could pass Jimmy off as an intellectual. And Byers certainly isn't going to make a convincing granola type."

"He's got a beard," Langly said, knowing it was weak.

Frohike shook his head. "Too much work. Byers just wouldn't look right in the clothes."

"What about you? You're the one who knows the hardware."

"You'd be more convincing. I don't want to have someone double check credentials just because I don't look the part. Besides, I was planning to go anyway."

"What are you going as?" Langly asked.

"Your grad student."

* * *

Langly and Frohike made their way through the crowded lobby to the registration desk. Byers and Jimmy were out in the van monitoring the repeater that Frohike was carrying in the hopes of intercepting the signal.

As they approached the registration desk, Frohike pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket.

"Here, put these on," Frohike said, handing them over to Langly.

He glanced down at the glasses and groaned. "Not John Lennon glasses."

"What? You're supposed to be a hippie intellectual."

"First you make me wear an uncomfortable wool vest, corduroy pants, and a ponytail tied back with hemp cord. Now you want me to wear John Lennon glasses?" he groused. Somehow Frohike had gotten away with wearing the blander elements of his own normal attire.

"What part of hippie don't you understand?"

"The part where I am one."

Frohike rolled his eyes. "You'll get over it."

Resigned, Langly pulled his own glasses off his face and perched the new ones on his nose. "Hey. These are window glass. I can't see a thing."

"Sorry, there wasn't time. Apparently it takes a couple weeks to get glasses in your prescription."

Langly stopped. "How do you know my prescription?"

"I called in a favor with Yves and she hacked into your doctor's database."

Langly gaped at him. "How do you know who my eye doctor is?"

Frohike looked positively devious. "One of these days we should really do an expose on the lack of computer security in the insurance industry."

"That's great. Just great." He definitely preferred being the hacker, not the hackee. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"Like you'd tell me."

"I would have if I'd known I wasn't going to be able to see!"

"You wouldn't be able to see either way because I couldn't get the prescription in time. Quite complaining and just follow my lead. You'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Seeing Eye Dog," he grumbled.

They worked their way up to the front of the line where a woman with straight blonde hair checked their names off a list and handed them a schedule of speakers. Then they were free to pass through two large wooden doors into the lecture room. A crowd of people were mingling in an exhibition space behind several rows of chairs. Langly didn't see anything unusual, but then, he couldn't see much of anything anyway.

"That's odd," Frohike said, as what looked to Langly like two colorful blobs, walked past them.

"What?"

"You must really look the part - those women were checking you out."

"Really? Were they hot?"

"If you like hippie chicks."

Langly hand no problem _dating_ a hippie. "Maybe being a professor of environmental science isn't such a bad thing."

"Hey, Byers?" Frohike said into his throat mic. Langly took a nonchalant step back to avoid generating any feedback with the identical mic and earpiece set he was wearing. "You getting anything yet?"

"No. Try milling around some. According to your source, it's a pretty weak signal."

Langly glanced around the room, trying to spot a likely place to put a transmitter. But between his bad eyesight and the fact that a low-power transmitter could be hidden anywhere, it was a waste of time. He was about to say as much to Frohike when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something odd. It almost looked like someone was pointing at him.

"Come on, let's work our way to the front and see if we get anything there," Frohike said before Langly could mention the pointing people. The hacker shrugged - it was probably just blurry vision.

They walked past tables covered with what Langly presumed were leaflets for various causes. Then he turned his attention to the podium where a woman in a long, flowing skirt had just stepped up to speak. He was completely caught off guard when someone tugged at his arm. He turned around, feeling disoriented and a bit dizzy.

"Could I have your autograph, Professor?" a young-sounding woman asked, pushing a book toward him and holding out something that had to be a pen.

"Uh?" Langly stalled, glancing towards Frohike for help.

"I just bought your book at the table over there and I'd really appreciate it if you'd sign it."

Frohike took the book from her and then stared up at him. Even with his poor eyesight, Langly could see that Frohike was giving him the `danger look'. "Ah, yeah, Professor White would be happy to give you his autograph." Frohike handed him the book and the pen.

Langly had no idea what the hell was going on, but he could follow a lead. He flipped open the book and scribbled `Prof. White' as illegibly as possible before handing it back.

"Thank you so much! I never thought I'd get the chance to meet you in person. Your book is amazing!" the woman said as she faded back into the crowd.

"What the hell was that?" Langly hissed.

"Come on. You are not going to believe this." Frohike led the way over to a quiet corner. "Stay here." He then disappeared momentarily and returned holding a book. "Take a look at this."

Langly pulled his real glasses out of his shirt pocket and surreptitiously slipped them on. The book was open to the jacket and when he glanced down he almost dropped it. There was a black and white picture of a blond man with his long hair tied back in a ponytail wearing little wire rim glasses. Langly looked up at Frohike. "I guess you were right about the glasses, huh?"

"Yeah. That's a scary likeness."

"What should we do?"

"Just put the glasses back on and try to keep a low profile. Hopefully no one else will notice."

They moved back into the crowd and started methodically circling the room, hoping to cover as much ground as possible. But Langly was starting to feel uncomfortable. He had it in his head that all eyes were on him.

"Hey guys." Byers voice came through the earpieces unexpectedly. "I think I got something but it's really weak. It keeps coming and going."

"Let us know if it gets stronger or weaker," Frohike said, leading them ten feet back toward the exit.

"It's gone."

"Okay. Hang on." Frohike backtracked the ten feet and then moved another ten feet closer to the stage.

"Yeah, it's back again - but intermittently. It's still really weak."

Frohike looked up at Langly and motioned toward the podium at the front of the room. "Let's head that way."

Up on the stage the woman in the long skirt, who was obviously uncomfortable in front of a crowd, was giving her presentation, but she didn't have the microphone positioned well. Langly cocked his head to the side to make it look like he was moving closer to the stage to be able to hear her.

"Getting better. I think I've almost got a lock on it," Byers said as they slowly moved forward. They reached the corner of the stage and tried to look like they belonged there.

"Better, but I'm still getting drop outs."

Frohike shook his head and looked around. "Come on, there's a set of steps over here," he said, leading the way.

Langly turned to follow him but immediately felt a sharp jolt and then found himself sitting on the floor in a daze. When he recovered enough to look up, there was someone standing over him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the man he must have run into. "Please forgive me, I wasn't paying attention."

"It's okay. Neither was I," Langly said, swinging his legs around to get back on his feet. So much for keeping a low profile, he thought, cursing the glasses.

As he glanced up, he realized that the man was staring at him.

"Professor White?"

"Uh ..."

"Please do excuse me! It's such an honor to meet you. And to think, I knocked you off your feet! I'm Alistair Frieland, the organizer of today's event."

"I'm uh, not ..." Langly started, intending to explain that he wasn't White, but the man just kept going.

"I had been under the impression that you would be unable to join us today. I'm so glad you could make it." The man was now vigorously pumping his hand. "It's just quite an honor to meet someone of your stature."

"Ah ..." Langly glanced at Frohike, who just shrugged. "Thank you. My, uh, my plans changed."

"We're so pleased. As I said, it's such an honor."

"Thank you. It's an honor to be here," he said, turning in hopes of escaping.

"Em, Professor," Frieland called after him, dashing Langly's hopes for a quick get away. "I know this is an imposition and I realize that you probably don't have anything prepared, but would you mind speaking? It would be such an unexpected pleasure. We have a few minutes in the agenda."

"Uh, I really couldn't ..."

"I'm sure the audience would be forgiving if your talk was off the cuff. Your book has made such an impression here and to have you in our presence but not get the benefit of your insight would be practically criminal."

That wasn't the only thing criminal, Langly thought. "I, um, appreciate the offer, but um ..."

"He'd be happy to," Frohike said suddenly.

It was all Langly could do to keep from yelling, `WHAT?!' He glared at Frohike.

But Frieland was back to shaking his hand. "Thank you so much, Professor! It's such an honor. I'll go introduce you right away. Just follow me."

As soon as he was gone, Langly whipped around at Frohike. "What the hell are you doing?! I can't talk about this guy's book!"

"Langly, the signal's coming from the front of the room, probably up on the stage. We have to get close enough to get a solid lock on it. Here, take this with you when you go up there." He handed Langly the repeater.

"What!? I can't do this! I have no idea what's in the book!"

"It's something about the environment. Just fake it."

"What am I gonna say?"

"I don't know. But this might be our only chance to get that signal. Just use big words."

Langly gawked at him.

"Come on, he's introducing you," Frohike said, dragging him toward the podium where Friedland was indeed gushing on about the landmark longitudinal studies White had apparently done.

Langly wondered if he could find a way to dematerialize a la _Star Trek_.

"And it's my extreme pleasure today to introduce a last minute addition to the agenda, Professor Leonard White!"

Frohike gave him one last shove and somehow Langly found himself behind the podium. There was a dull rustling in the audience, followed by a couple of coughs. Suddenly he was glad he wasn't wearing his glasses -- fuzzy, faceless blobs of color were a lot less intimidating than actual people. He didn't even have to imagine them naked. Not that either approach was going to do him much good -- his palms were already sweating and he could feel the panic setting in. What the hell was he going to say?

"Uh. Hello. Greetings. Uh. Ladies and gentleman." His voice cracked and he grabbed for the indistinct glass-shaped blob, figuring it had to be water. Of course he wouldn't object to hemlock right about now. He took a small swallow, not wanting to end up choking and sputtering. Big words, big words, he thought. "I apologize for not having anything prepared today. Uh. But I thank you for the honor of asking me to speak." He glared at the blob that was Frohike, silently cursing him to a thousand blue screens of death. "If you'll bear with me, I'd like to tell you a st--share with you an anecdote. Ah, a case study if you will. Of, uh, a vigorous struggle against an egregious tyranny and its willful disregard for liberty and the resplendence of the environment."

Langly stopped and gulped in air. What the hell was he going to do? He'd always had an inexplicable knack for picking up vocabulary words - not that he used them much beyond the occasional crossword puzzle - but he was in over his head here. It was no problem for him to throw out esoteric words, but first he was going to have to come up with some meaningful way to string them together. He ran a hand over his forehead and then out of nowhere, inspiration hit. He took another sip of water. Maybe he could do this. He just needed to go slowly, pick his words carefully.

"It all began with a simple cultivator, uh, a young man awakening to the, uh, uh, dilative universe around him. For the purposes of this case study, I'll call him the Subject. He'd led an ascetic life, spent for the most part in, um, commune with nature. But this wasn't enough for the Subject. Infused with the prevailing zeitgeist, the Subject surveyed the world around him with a passionate eye and endeavored to effect change. Um. He was taken under the tutelage of a Mentor - an avuncular man steeped in the ways of nature, in touch with the entelechy, and committed to high-minded principle. Together they oppugned the reigning power structure, the Establishment, which ruled their lives with intolerable oppressiveness."

Langly took another sip of water, wondering what was taking Byers so long. Surely he had to have the signal by now. It felt like he'd been up at the podium forever. But he had no choice - he had to keep going.

"The Subject's first call-to-arms was the plight of a political prisoner, the uh, spokesperson for a peace-loving people exterminated by the truculent and venal Establishment. One of the last of her kind, she was imprisoned for brazenly speaking out against a devastating new technology. In order to achieve liberation for the Prisoner, the Subject and his Mentor needed help. They found themselves in accord with unlikely co-revolutionaries including a condottiere and a bandoliered stalwart, in addition to automatons they'd originally set out with. Together they all took up the cause of the Prisoner, who was fighting against the deployment of the depredatory weapons technology. The unlikely group was able to abscond with the Prisoner and having proven their correlative objectives, joined the Prisoner's Movement. Determined to forestall widespread utilization of the technology that had proven disastrous to an entire ecosystem, they engaged in a non-symmetric conflict against the Establishment. The nisus was successful and elevated the Subject and those with him to mythic status in the Movement."

Langly came up for air and sipped his water, having settled into telling the story. The room was completely silent, none of the rustling or coughing from earlier. He glanced in Frohike's direction and saw the blob there motioning with his hand -- motioning for Langly to continue. They must not have the signal yet. Langly sighed and kept going.

"However those in the Movement did not divine the ferocity of the counterattack of those bent on brandishing the new technology and dominating the political sphere. The Movement was relegated to a small niche, successfully marginalized by a re-invigorated hegemony. The now factionalized Movement was compelled to exist sub rosa. The Subject, concerned that he was on his way to becoming an autodidact, sought out the wisdom and intellect of a pedagogue in the forbearer to the modern Movement. After indoctrinating himself in the rich history of the Movement and assimilating the ways of his forefathers, the Subject returned to rejoin the battle. The baneful Establishment was extorting the agro-mining industry to exert its control and force the Movement out of hiding. The Subject went to emancipate his co-revolutionaries and use his fledgling abilities to aid the Movement. He faced down an attempt by the patriarchy to corrupt his idealism through the offering of positional power within the hegemonic structure. Sacrificing part of his physical being to the cause, the Subject nonetheless valiantly struggled on. Finally he was emancipated in body and spirit after being cast out by the patriarchy for his refusal to accept the Establishment.

"After being reconstituted and having the disparate cadres fused, the again whole Movement began its last campaign against the Establishment. Having procured information on the attempt to redeploy the ecologically devastating technology, the Movement set out to decisively impugn the Establishment."

Langly's earpiece crackled, "We got it. We got the whole transmission."

Langly picked up his water again, put a hand over the podium mic and mumbled, "I was just getting to the good part," out of the corner of his mouth.

"So wrap it up and let's get out of here."

Langly smiled at the audience. "Where was I? Oh yes. So the Establishment was trying to legitimize and deploy their technology. The Subject and other leaders in the Movement decided they needed to broaden their acting coalition. They brought aboard indigenous peoples whose viability was threatened both by the Establishment and its technology. Fighting together as brothers and sisters, the Movement coalition brought an end to the tyrannical rule of the Establishment. The Subject redeemed the patriarchy, bringing peace and hope back to the peoples of the world."

Langly paused and could see the fuzzy heads nodding. "Now I presume that most of you expect me to unmask the noble Subject, but alas, it is not in my purview to do so. But I can tell you that he has galvanized and informed my life's choices. He's a hero in a hero-less age. So I'll leave you with the thought that each of you could be the Subject. Fight the Man. Thank you."

The crowd erupted in jubilant applause and Langly couldn't help grinning smugly. He spotted the Frohike blob as he stepped down from the stage.

"What the hell was that?" Frohike asked.

Langly stretched his arms out in front of him and cracked his knuckles as they beat a quick retreat. "Star Wars. In big words."

 

 

 


End file.
